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Two Roads Home, A Chicory Inn Novel - Book 2

By Deborah Raney

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Chapter One

“Mom, can you get the door behind me?” Corinne Pennington hiked her oversized purse—the one that doubled as a diaper bag—on her shoulder and stooped to pick up Simone. The toddler popped a thumb in her mouth and clung to Corinne like Velcro.
“Listen, baby girl, you should be over the Terrible Twos by now, so sweeten up, okay?”
Simone popped her thumb right back out of her mouth and answered with an ear-piercing wail.
“Sadie?” Corinne called to her dawdling four-year-old. “Come on… Hurry up.”
“Wait, Mama. I gotta go tell Huckleberry g’bye.”
“No, sweetie.” Corinne’s mother came to the rescue, taking Sadie firmly by the shoulders and turning her toward the door. “You already told Huck goodbye. You do what your mama says now.”
“Get in the car, Sadie, we’re going to be late picking up your sister.” Corinne gave her mother a grateful look and waved a free elbow. “I’ll see you Sunday.”
“Okay. And you’ll let Landyn and Chase know about Sunday dinner?”
“I will. Tell Dad I’m sorry I missed him.”
“Will do. And you tell Jesse hello when you talk to him.”
“Sure. Come on, Sadie, hustle up!” Corinne herded her entourage down the wide steps of the house she’d grown up in.
“Hows come Sari got to go to skating and I didn’t.”
“Because it was her friend’s birthday party, and you weren’t invited.”
Wrong thing to say. Sadie pasted on a pout and stomped her Croc-clad foot.
“You’ll get to go another time.”
Her mom stood waving at the door, looking just a little too happy to see them go.
Well, who could blame her? The girls had been brats all morning—all week really. Ever since Jesse had left for his second consecutive week in Chicago. Her husband worked hard as a sales manager at Preston-Brilon Manufacturing just outside Cape Girardeau. The company made high-end industrial vacuum sweepers and despite the inevitable jokes about him being a vacuum cleaner salesman, Jesse made good money. She was lucky—blessed—that she got to stay home with the kids. But she wasn’t sure how many more of these business trips she could survive. It was hard being a single parent, even if it was just for a week or two.
She buckled the girls into their car seats, closed the door of the SUV, then turned and promptly tripped over Huckleberry.
“Huck! Get! Get out of the way.” Stupid dog.
The chocolate Lab panted up at her like she’d just offered him a T-bone.
“Get back on the porch, boy.”
Huck pranced backward, then looked up at her, testing to see if she really meant it.
“Go, Huck. Now.”
Huckleberry trotted back to the wide front porch and plopped down beside an urn of freshly potted red geraniums, watching her with mopey eyes. It made an idyllic picture. The Chicory Inn, her parents’ empty nest project, looked beautiful in the waning May sunshine. Mom and Dad had done wonders with the remodel of the house her grandparents had built almost one hundred years ago.
This was the only home she’d known for the first eighteen years of her life. But sometimes she missed the place she remembered—the spacious, creaky house where the cupboards wore chipped paint, the heavy doors sometimes stuck, and the floors boasted shag carpet in garish shades of orange and blue.
It had been almost a decade since she’d lived here, and she couldn’t begrudge her parents’ right to bring the house into modern times, and even to make a business of it by opening the Chicory Lane Inn.
And she had to admit they’d done the house proud. New cream-painted woodwork and wainscoting, refinished original hardwood floors, and bright contemporary rugs, curtains, and paintings gave the century-old house an elegant, yet still cozy vibe. At first, she’d had trouble making the rather trendy style fit her very traditional mother. But seeing Mom in her element, entertaining guests and cooking in the new state-of-the-art kitchen, she couldn’t help but be happy for her.
And maybe a wee bit jealous. Not that she had any reason to be. Three years ago, she and Jesse had built a beautiful new home in Cape Girardeau just a few miles up the road. And as much as she loved the charm and history of an older home in the country, she appreciated living near every convenience, in a house where everything was brand new, where she’d had a say in every inch of the design, and where nothing would need repairing for many years to come.
Corinne climbed into the SUV and sighed. She didn’t know why she was worrying about houses, since it seemed as if she spent half her life in this vehicle. Checking on her daughters in the rearview mirror, she started down the long driveway that led out to Chicory Lane, the country road that was the inn’s namesake.
She flipped on the AC and adjusted the vents. The car was like a sauna. She checked the dashboard. Why was it taking so long for the seat coolers to kick in?
Her mother had been a little short-tempered with the girls today—and with her. Yes, there was a full slate of guests scheduled at the inn this weekend, but Audrey Whitman had always claimed the inn would never come before her kids or grandkids. Lately, it seemed like that was exactly what was happening.
Oh, the girls thought their Gram hung the moon. And Corinne knew Mom adored her daughters—she’d practically bought out the Baby Boutique in Cape Girardeau when Sari was born—and she doted on all three of them. Though now that Chase and Landyn’s twins had arrived, they seemed to get the lion’s share of both Gram’s and Poppa’s attention. But then her sister had always been the spoiled baby of the family. Nothing had changed there. Corinne was used to that and prided herself on being more independent as the oldest. Still—
Oh, waah waah waah, Pennington. Grow up. She was being over-sensitive. Still, it would be nice if once in a while—
Her cell phone trilled. Keeping her eyes on the road, she fished the phone out of her purse and snuck a glance at the screen. She didn’t recognize the number, but with Jesse out of town, she hated to ignore it.
She pulled the car over at the crest of the hill and clicked Answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, Mrs. Pennington, this is Michaela Creeve. I work with Jesse.”
For the space of a heartbeat she stopped breathing. Had something happened to him?
“Jesse wanted me to let you know that our flight has been delayed.”
“Oh—okay…”
“We’re not sure by how much, but we’ll let you know as soon as they announce anything.”
“Um…okay. Thank you.”
What? She pulled the phone back and stared at it. Jesse couldn’t call her himself? Now he was communicating with her through his staff? She’d never met Michaela, but she instantly disliked the perkiness in the woman’s voice.
“Could you put Jesse on for a minute, please?”
“Well, he’s… Just a minute. I’ll see if he can come to the phone.”
A flash of heat went through her. How dare she screen Jesse’s calls! Corinne bit the inside of her cheek, knowing she’d be sorry if she said what she was thinking.
She heard the feminine voice in the background, and then Jesse’s familiar deep timbre. But it was Michaela who came back on the line. “Mrs. Pennington, Jesse’s on the phone with a client right now.”
“Oh…” So he was “Jesse” but she was “Mrs. Pennington”? She felt her arteries hardening by the minute. “Well, I guess—”
“Oh… Hang on. They just announced our flight.” A pregnant pause. “It looks like it gets in around ten. In to St. Louis, not Cape. Jesse says we’ll rent a car from there, but it’ll probably be after midnight by the time we get home.”
Corinne wracked her brain to remember who else had made the trip with Jesse this time. Usually Reggie from the Cape office went, but she didn’t remember Jesse mentioning him. Probably too busy flirting with Miss Perky—”
“Mama?”
“Shh… I’m on the phone, Sadie.”
“Why are we just sittin’ here? I thought we were in a hurry.”
She shushed her daughter again, then saw that Simone had fallen asleep in the carseat. Great. There went the afternoon nap…her only time to get a break.
“Oh—I’ve got to run, Mrs. Pennington, but just wanted to get that message to you.”
“Yes. Thank you, Michaela—” But the girl had already hung up.

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